


The Sleepover

by bluebright_l



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Gen, genderswapped Edric Storm and Devan Seaworth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:04:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1325938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebright_l/pseuds/bluebright_l
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just pure sleepover fluff, with a slightly sexy bath at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sleepover

Melisandre had just drawn a nice, hot bath and added her favorite bath oils when she heard the text alert, the one she’d set for Stannis. Humming to herself, she hurried over to the nightstand and thumbed the message app.

“Help.”

Frowning, Melisandre drew a robe around herself loosely and slipped out of her room, padding down the drafty halls in her bare feet. The curtness of the message was not a surprise, but the fact that he was asking her for help certainly was. She checked his study and his bedroom, but both were silent and empty.

With a sigh, she tapped out a quick message on her phone. “I can’t help you if I don’t know where you are, darling.”

Presently, a reply came, “Shireen’s room. Quickly, woman.” She quirked an eyebrow and set off to the other end of the house.

When she neared Shireen’s room, she could hear giggling coming from within, and remembered that the little girl had been planning a sleepover with two girls from her class. But nothing sounded amiss...what could he possibly need her help with?

She knew as soon as she entered the room, and only her knowledge of his extreme dislike of being mocked kept her from laughing aloud. Sitting on a small child’s chair, Stannis looked up at her, stone-faced, his eyes pleading mutely. Surrounding him were Shireen, her face so aglow with happiness that her scars were hardly noticeable, and two other little girls. The child-sized table in front of them was littered with candy, costume jewelry, lip gloss and nail polish. Shireen had a color that could only be described as cotton-candy pink uncapped and was slicking it on Stannis inexpertly, while the other two held up bottles of nail polish for his inspection.

“Well, hello,” Melisandre said softly, cinching her robe a bit tighter as she sat in one of the other tiny chairs. “You look like you’re having fun…”

“Oh yes,” Shireen beamed. Stannis cleared his throat loudly, and Shireen blushed, looking down. “I’m sorry. Melisandre, these are my friends, Erica and Devan.” She turned to the other little girls, who were munching candy avidly and trying not to stare at Melisandre’s red hair, hanging loose over her shoulders. “This is Melisandre.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, girls.” Melisandre took a red Starburst from the table and unwrapped it slowly, avoiding Stannis’s gaze. “Are you doing makeovers?”

Erica, a stout little girl with inky black hair and a pug nose, piped up. “Yep! But none of us are allowed to wear makeup, so we’re doing a makeover on Shireen’s daddy!”

“I’ve told you girls, you are doing no such thing.”

The three little girls giggled, and Melisandre smiled warmly, her heart swelling with affection at his long-suffering tone. “Why don’t you give me a makeover instead, girls?” She said, braiding her hair loosely and tying it off with a bit of ribbon off the table. “I think Shireen’s daddy is too handsome for a makeover.”

The three girls giggled at that, but flocked over to her, bringing with them the bottles of garishly colored nail polish, glittery eyeshadow and the cotton-candy pink lipgloss. Stannis was up out of his seat before she could blink, and touched her shoulder briefly as he left the room without a word. Melisandre sat for Shireen and her friends for an hour, letting them paint her nails, daub gaudy makeup on her lips and face.

The two friends could not have been more different from each other, or from Shireen. Erica was bossy, but not in an unkind way. She had the air of a child who had grown accustomed to getting her way because she was well-loved, not because she demanded it. Devan, on the other hand, was a quiet little girl who seemed to get the most enjoyment out of suggesting colors and encouraging Shireen to put on “More!”

For her part, Shireen seemed an entirely different child than the almost painfully shy little girl Melisandre knew. She was still the quietest of the three, but her smile shone bright, never flagging. She took direction from Erica, listened carefully to Devan’s suggestions, and quietly gave input on small matters, such as the suitability of glitter polish versus plain. Every so often Melisandre would catch her eye and give her a private smile that Shireen returned shyly, but did not otherwise insert herself into the the girls’ conversation. Shireen was clearly having the time of her young life, and Melisandre was loathe to disrupt that.

Finally, they decided she was done and brought forth a hand mirror. She was done up in the pink lipgloss, a veritable peacock’s tail of colors coated her eyelids and there were bright round circles of blush high on her cheeks. She didn’t need the mirror to see her fingernails, which were neon pink and lime green, the polish pooling in the corners and still tacky to the touch.

“Do you like it?” Erica grinned at her from one side of the hand mirror, and Melisandre’s eyes flicked past her to Shireen, biting her lip anxiously. It was the first sign of worry she’d shown all night, and Melisandre smiled warmly.

“I love it. Now, you girls should be off to bed...it’s getting late.”

Later, as she sat in her bath, re-warmed,  more bath oils added, with a glass of red wine, Stannis came to her. She was amused when he sat on the side of the tub, rather than standing awkwardly in the doorway, as was his wont. He must be very appreciative indeed, she thought.

“I didn’t mean for you--”

She put a hand on his knee, smiling to herself when he tensed slightly. “I didn’t mind in the least. Why don’t you undress and get in with me?”

“No, no, I--”

She gave him a stern look, squeezing his thigh. “Come now, everyone must bathe.”

“Yes, but not as...decadently as you do.” He grumbled, but undressed with quick efficiency. “Slide forward, woman,” he said, slipping in the bath behind her when she did so.

“There. Now, isn’t it nice?” She leaned back against his chest, letting her fingers trail up and down his thighs under the hot water.

“It is...not unpleasant,” he replied, and she was surprised to feel him brush a kiss against her hair.

“Tell me,” she said, rubbing her cheek against his chest. “How did you get roped into makeovers?”

She was careful in the amount of amusement she allowed to creep into her voice, and was pleased that his sigh was more resigned than annoyed. “My brother’s...child is a veritable monster, and she has a negative influence on Shireen and Davos’s girl.”

“Oh, Erica is hardly a monster…” Melisandre hadn’t known the girl was Robert’s, but it did make sense. “She’s just...bossy. But she’s not mean about it, which is a good skill to have.”

“Mmm…” Stannis’s voice rumbled against her back. “That’s Robert all over. He was constantly ordering everyone around. Me, Renly, Ned Stark...even adults. But no matter how demanding he was, they all loved him.” The note of bitterness in his voice was plain to her, but it sounded well-worn, a long-held grudge that had lost most of its power.

“How funny. I found Devan to be very much like her father, too.” Melisandre changed the subject deftly. She did not care to speak of Robert in the bath, or at all, really. “She’s quiet and helpful, but with very distinct opinions.” 

“Yes, that sounds like Davos, all right.” Stannis drew a cupped hand up one of her arms, droplets of water running back down her smooth skin. “But I’m surprised you evaluated her so fairly. I thought you despised Davos?”

“I do not,” Melisandre shifted slightly to look up at him, very much aware of his growing arousal pressing against her back. “It is Davos that doesn’t care for me. Do you not speak to him of your...affection for me?” She let her nails scrape along his thigh, enjoying the way his cock throbbed when she did so.

“Of course not. Don’t be-” 

She pressed her lips to his, interrupting him before he could call her ‘ridiculous’ or ‘absurd’. Surprisingly, though, he pulled away fairly quickly. “What’s wrong, darling?” 

“You taste like cotton candy.”


End file.
